


Another Way Out (Recover From This)

by booksindalibrary



Series: blood wants freedom [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, Recovery, Sequel, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:43:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksindalibrary/pseuds/booksindalibrary
Summary: They wanted Tsuna to recover, and they thought it was a success.[Read the first one in the series or risk being hella confused]





	Another Way Out (Recover From This)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-proof read.

Yamamoto allowed the evil thoughts to return during practice, and no amount of surpression would make it go away. As the rage expanded in his chest, his batting became more disarrayed, his pitching more violent, until finally, sighing and shaking his head, the coach said:

“Yamamoto, go home, cool off, return with a clear head tomorrow.”

Yamamoto accepted this, having seen the flaws in his play. Ah, but it _hurt_ and he couldn't think straight, his vision fogged over and stained with red.

“ _Voices won't go away, they stay for days and days...”_

Gokudera was waiting with Tsuna, cigarette smoke drifting over to him with a greeting far warmer than anything Gokudera had to offer, judging by the glare.

“Afternoon, Yamamoto,” Tsuna mumbled, and Yamamoto swallowed his self-hatred and grinned. “Hey, Tsuna, Gokudera.”

Gokudera clicked his tongue, glancing at Tsuna as if to say, _can you believe him?_

Yamamoto rubbed the back of his neck, trailing after the two. How had he not noticed? All this time, he hadn't known, had never noticed the scars breeding like rats on Tsuna's arms.

* * *

“ _They say some awful things, ways to make you fade away...”_

Yamamoto, with Shigure Kintoki in hand, stood in the middle of the forest and cursed the wind. He dropped the sword, clutching his head, tears pricking his eyes. “Dammit,” he spat bitterly, “how did I not notice? You idiot, did you _forget_ what it was like on the damn roof?” The chilly wind biting through his clothes, and the way Tsuna had looked then, pleading with him to stay with this world - all that desperation to _stop_ had kept Yamamoto alive.

Rage flooded his body, until he couldn't even bear to stand any more and his system couldn't stand the force of any more. The hatred didn't end, and Yamamoto wondered if he could ever forgive himself.

“ _When you’re sleeping at night, yeah there’s nothing you can do...”_

“Gokudera,” Yamamoto groaned, “I know you're there.”

Gokudera came out of hiding spot, eyeing the swordsman. “Baseball idiot.” He was directly behind Yamamoto, watching him cower and doing nothing about it.

Yamamoto, eyes straight ahead, asked, “Why?” The simple question had too many answers.

Gokudera was quiet for a moment, before saying, “It was our fault.”

Yamamoto, hearing the broken note in his voice, slumped over. “Ah, I was hoping, that maybe, it wasn't us?” However evil the thought, he still wanted to pass off the guilt to someone else, even if it was just a little.

“I know.”

“Because then, maybe, I could have a reason to kill them, and pretend it had nothing to do with me?”

“...I know, idiot. I know.”

Yamamoto slammed his fist against the ground, spitting out, “God-fucking-damn it all, I should've _known,_ I've been there, how did I not see?” He turned finally, staring Gokudera in the eye, neither one flinching. “It's our fault,” he said vengefully. “He was the most important person to us, and we failed.”

Gokudera blinked, then nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

* * *

Yamamoto and Gokudera never left him alone, and when they were forced to go home, they ordered Reborn to look out for him.

Reborn, knowing full well why this was happening, agreed. He would not let his student fall into the darkness again.

Tsuna stared blankly out the window, seemingly uncaring of all of them.

“Tsuna,” Reborn said, dropping the 'dame'. It would not do, he couldn't say it to him. “Dinner's in fifteen.”

Tsuna turned dull eyes onto Reborn, and all the hitman saw was a vague hopelessness. How had he not seen this? Reborn felt like a failure, one huge failure. And yet he could say nothing, so he sat in silence.

And at dinner, Tsuna pushed the food around his plate, and how Reborn hadn't noticed the lack of appetite made him sick. Sick of himself, and the blithe way he had behaved with him. No wonder he had taken a blade to himself; Tsuna saw no hope.

A blade to his skin. Reborn had to divert his attention to elsewhere so he wouldn't vomit.

“ _I wish there was another way out...”_

Gokudera returned after dinner, forcing his face into something that resembled cheerfulness, constantly giving Tsuna attention. On other days it was Yamamoto, and sometimes even Ryohei and Mukuro (who gave innuedos like candy on Halloween), while Hibari's only advice was not to disturb the peace of Namimori.

And bit by bit, Tsuna recovered, until he was offering tentative smiles and the wounds on his arms healed over.

Yamamoto should've known that the smile was fake.

* * *

The first place they looked was all the places where one would commit suicide, not trusting the smile any longer.

“Juudaime,” Gokudera panted frantically, running even faster than the rest of the Guardians. Was it all an act?

The group splintered into individuals that chased shadows, each one sending up a prayer that the worst wasn't to happen.

“Tsuna,” Yamamoto yelled, regardless of whether he woke anyone or whether poisonous glares were sent his way. “Tsuna!” Oh god, please don't be dead, Yamamoto begged, the lump in his throat thickening.

* * *

Tsuna's mouth was dry, and ground was hard, and the world was dark.

“ _No one cares less than me...”_

His hands were cold and nonresponsive, his legs deadened, the warmth from his body not even bothering to linger.

He coughed, then vomited on the ground. Disgusted at the way it splattered all over him, he rolled away from it, gasping for air. He had no pills, no mitts, nothing but this useless body he called 'his' and the memories of his friends.

“Help,” he whispered.

“ _These voices won’t let you leave...”_

“Dame-Tsuna,” the taunting voices were back again, this time more vicious and louder and crueller. “Hah, too stupid to even live. Looks like your Guardians gave up on you.”

They probably have, Tsuna replied groggily, head rolling to one side. He was so useless, a dispicable excuse of a human, really.

* * *

“ _What should my next weapon be?”_

There was hell to pay, and not a single soul would survive.

* * *

“ _There’s no place you can hide 'cause I’m coming after you...”_

It was over in a flash, and Gokudera had no regrets. Only he and Yamamoto had bothered to show up, the others would have overkill. Too much and Tsuna might have been in more danger.

“Bastards, thinking you can kidnap Juudaime,” he spat at them, wishing he had made their deaths slower. But he had to protect Juudaime, always protect.

Yamamoto, with blood smeared across his face, glanced at Gokudera. “How is he?”

Gokudera was leaning over Tsuna, then sighed in relief as Tsuna stirred. “Ah, he's safe.”

Tsuna's kidnapping nearly made everyone think he was suicidal, enough to whip the Guardians into a frenzy that could have destroyed Japan in a minute. But they had discovered it was a kidnapping, and not even Xanxus could match their rage.

“ _I wish there was another way out...”_

Tsuna's eyes opened, and two of his Guardians nearly sobbed with joy. “Juudaime,” Gokudera gasped, using a tiny trickle of Sun Flames to heal his wounds. That was all he could spare, and he wished he had more to offer, more to give to Juudaime.

“Tsuna,” Yamamoto said, and Tsuna closed his eyes again.

“Damn,” Tsuna mumbled, voice hoarse. Bitter fury pooled in his gut, coiled and lashing out against his skin. His blood wanted freedom again.

“Ju-Juudaime?” Gokudera asked, this time a little worried at the look on his face.

Tsuna turned so he was looking at the pile of corpses they had made, and his face twisted into something Gokudera never wanted to see again.

“Why didn't you kill me?” He cried, grabbing one and shaking it, so lost in his self-hatred that he didn't feel Gokudera trying to restrain him, didn't hear Yamamoto's words. “Dammit, you just needed my body, you said you would, you bastards, I want to _die,_ ” and Tsuna was screaming words, a stream of pleas. Gokudera and Yamamoto had no idea what to do, and watched as Tsuna announced his suffering.

“ _Break you down, now put it back together again...”_

What were they supposed to do?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Song: Another Way Out by Hollywood Undead (recc'd by TiredSmolPrince)


End file.
